


Take Me to Church

by WhatWouldRiverDo



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, best enemies, i hate tagging things...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWouldRiverDo/pseuds/WhatWouldRiverDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Missy comes aboard the TARDIS things change for the both of them. For better or for worse he wasn't sure. All that mattered was that things had changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to Church

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have been working on this for awhile now. I know it is short to have been working on for any period of time. I hope you all like it. I apologize in advance for any grammatical or spelling errors I may have missed. I wrote and edited this all on my own

_My lover's got a humor; she's the giggle at a funeral..._

"Missy! You can't just do something like that! You just- how could you do something like that?! What the hell?!" The Doctor yelled as he drug Missy into the TARDIS by her upper arm. Instead of being upset or hurt by his harshness, Missy found it fascinating, and just smiled up at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She loved when the Doctor was angry...she loved being the cause of it. He would get a stern 'I'm in charge' look in his eyes and Missy would eat up every bit of it. 

"People could have died! Missy, what goes through your mind when you pull stunts like this?" He kept going on. Missy rolled her eyes and propped herself up on the edge of the console. 

"People die all of the time, why not hurry the process a bit, love?" Missy shrugged in a matter of fact manner adding a crooked grin on her face for effect. She could hear the Doctor's teeth grinding and the steam pouring out of his ears from the console all the way over to where he stood by the entrance of the TARDIS. 

"Did you just say that to me?" He growled. "If that's the case, should we just kill everyone in the entire universe just because they are already dying?!" He yelled and stormed over to where she was seated on the console. His rage, the rage of a mad man, had consumed him and he had lost control of himself. He was finished playing her games, done getting caught in her intricately spun web of lies. 

He grabbed her upper arms and drug her off of the console to her feet. For a fleeting moment he was worried he may have hurt her, but his anger diminished any other feeling he may have had. When she looked up at him, the Doctor couldn't really read her eyes. Was it love and fear? Or was hatred and amusement? He couldn't tell, but he knew he'd seen the look before. 

_Knows everybody's disapproval..._

"Why are you the way that you are?" He sighed desperately, shaking her as he spoke. She was insane, he knew that much, but he couldn't figure out why she didn't try to be normal. Why didn't she try to be good? 

"The drums Doctor..." Missy whispered. Of course, it was always the drums wasn't it? "They're gone, but they've scarred my brain forever. I will never be normal. I will never be as good as you. Why can't you understand that?!" She exclaimed, her voice growing louder as she spoke. 

"I will never accept you as long as you are killing people." The Doctor spat and letting her go. Missy gave him a sharp glare as she slowly stalked out of the room. She retreated to her designated bedroom on the TARDIS, and slammed her door loud enough for him to hear in the console room. Missy looked down at her shaking hands and leaned against the door. Why couldn't he just see that she can't stop? It's out of her control, and maybe if he'd just see that he'd help her. Or at least care about her. After all, they were equals. 

"Stupid, old man!" She screamed into the room, and fisted her hands in her hair causing strands of it to fall out of its intricate up do. She closed her eyes and let her tears flow freely down her cheek. Her makeup smeared down her cheeks as she threw her belongings across her room, letting them smash into her mirrors and walls. Things broke and there were shards of glass everywhere and her hands were bleeding from tiny cuts. Her hair was a mess of tangled curls around her shoulders, and her makeup was everywhere on her face now. She wished the precious Doctor could she how insane she looked now. 

He was worried about her. She’d been in her room for hours without any sights of her, and usually by then she would have came out to makeup with him. The Doctor stopped what he was doing, tinkering on the TARDIS, and cautiously made his way down the corridor to her bedroom. He stood in the middle of the hall with his hand up, ready to knock. His breath was staggered and struggled to exit and reenter his lungs. His hearts were beating so hard against his ribcage they were aching and it made his head hurt. Why was he nervous? It was just Missy; his long time best friend who had turned evil and into a woman. 

He knocked. No answer. He knocked. Still no answer 

"Missy, are you okay?" He asked through the door. No answer yet again. This time, instead of waiting for an answer, he cautiously opened the door and slowly took a step inside. Something crunched under his foot, and upon looking down he saw that it was a pile of glass. He immediately recognized it as a piece of one of her eccentric lamps she'd begged him to let her keep. The Doctor went pale and opened the door the rest of the way. The mess was incredible. He carefully navigated his way through the room to find her. She was on her bed, lying amongst a pile of her clothes. The dried smear of blood on her face was an immediate concern. 

"Did you come to mock me?" She whimpered and turned her head to give him a pitiful look. The Doctor's chest tightened and his expression softened slightly. He tentatively reached out to touch her cheek. Missy flinched, but didn’t move away. 

"If you hate me so much, why don’t you just kill me already?" She asked coldly. 

"You're my friend, my oldest friend. You always have been and in a way you always will be. Yes, I hate you most days. You're evil and the only thing you know is how to destroy. You make me so angry; furious even. Some days I wish you would die... but I know I'd be missing a part of me; a part of home, if I lost you." He explained and moved his hand to touch her tangled brown locks of hair. Missy didn't reply, she only looked down at her dainty hands pressed to the purple satin sheets underneath her. 

"C'mon now. Let's get you out of this disaster area and cleaned up." He mumbled and attempted a tight smile. When she didn’t protest he placed a hand in between her shoulder blades and place his arm under her knees, gently lifting her as he stood. She relaxed ever so slightly and wrapped an arm around his neck. She buried her face in his neck; out of embarrassment or affection he couldn't tell. Looking down at her in his arms, he realized how small and fragile she really was. 

The Doctor deposited her gently onto his bed and grabbed a wet cloth from a nearby table; the TARDIS must have had it ready for him. He gently rubbed the smeared makeup off of her face until the cloth was splotched with black, purple, and red. 

"I don’t know why you wear this crap." He grumbled as he looked at the ruined cloth in his hand. He despised makeup; all of the girls he traveled with and it always ended up on everything. Especially when they cried, which was often. He shuddered at that though. 

"I'm a woman now. I have to act like it. Makeup comes with the package. You of all people should know that with all the apes you parade around with." She replied, coldly and glared at him. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean she was going to be. 

The Doctor ground his teeth and grabbed a different cloth to clean up the cuts on her hands. Of course she always had to bring up what he was thinking about. Anytime he was thinking about something that was a touchy subject she always knew it. Even when they weren't touching. 

Every time the cloth touched one of the small cuts she winced, and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. This was his fault to begin with. Helping her clean up was the least he could do to help her out. 

"Stop. Just let me do it." She grumbled and tried to take the cloth from him, but he pulled it away before she could get a hold of it.  
"You stop. I can do it. You just relax." He told her, trying to keep calm even though she was trying his patience. 

Missy huffed and rolled her eyes again. He glared up at her and threw the cloth away from them. 

"There, all done." He grumbled and stood. "You can sleep in here. There should be some night clothes in the wardrobe over there." He told her and made to leave the room 

"Doctor, wait. I don’t want to be alone." She admitted, with a pout on her face and an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. The Doctor turned on his heels and looked down at her, considering her. She looked better without all that makeup on. She almost looked...normal. As crazy as that sounded. He almost wanted to kiss her, but he didn't.

_She’s he last true mouthpiece…_

The Doctor may not have kissed her, but he did stay with her. He lay behind her and propped his head on his hand, his other hand was in her hair. She had nice hair this time around. He liked it a lot. As he massaged her scalp, she purred and hummed under his touch. 

"Where's Gallifrey? Honestly?" The Doctor whispered next to her ear. Looking up at him over her shoulder, she almost smirked. 

"I can't tell you." She whispered in reply and placed her index finger over her lips, making a shushing noise. "You're spoiling the moment with your big stupid mouth." 

He just rolled his eyes and rolled on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dim room. He wasn't going to get anywhere with her, nor would he ever. 

"Doctor, do you love me?" She asked, still facing away from him. The Doctor hushed her and repeated her exact words back to her. She huffed and rolled onto her other side to face him, and placed her hands on his cheeks. He flinched at the touch of her cold hands. Leaning forward, she planted a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"How about now?" She smirked against his lips. He sighed and removed her hands from his face. 

"Kissing me doesn't change anything, Missy. You know that." The Doctor grumbled and turned on his side facing away from her. The urge to kiss her back suddenly overwhelmed him, and he caved in. Rolling back over, almost reluctantly his hands found their way to her waist and pulled her body against his. Pressing his lips to hers roughly, his brain was screaming at him to stop. To let her go and push her out of his TARDIS and into the void. But his hearts were beating so hard in excitement it drowned out any logical thinking. 

_A fresh poison each weak..._

She was a deadly drug that he was hooked on. No matter how hard he tried to break the habit he never could; he never would. She was toxic in his veins, coursing through his body. It was killing him, but he didn't care when it felt that good. 

He nails dug into the skin over his shoulder blades, leaving marks he definitely would regret later. Her teeth left bruises, and he knew he'd think of her any time he came across his reflection. Regret will overwhelm his body, but he'll just scowl and move on to the next big adventure. 

He left small bruises on her thighs, hips, and waist. She loved it more than she probably should have. It was almost as if he was claiming her, so that every time she saw the little purplish marks she'd be reminded that she belonged to him, and only him. He made her feel so alive, more so than she had in her hundreds of years in the universe.

_We were born sick, but I love it..._

The Doctor rolled off of her and lay on his back beside her, staring up at the ceiling once again as she tried to snuggle into his side. Missy ran her hands along his chest and abdomen and he tried his best not to flinch and push her away. He awkwardly ran his hand through her still damp hair. He loved her hair... It was long and wavy and seemed endless, kind of like time itself. It smelled good too. 

"Do you love me now?" Missy whispered, almost shyly, and the Doctor was shocked by her sudden timidness. 

"No... There is a massive difference between making love and fucking. That was fucking." The Doctor replied gruffly. Missy looked down and pouted. She was insane if she thought he'd ever love her like he loved Rose, or River, or his first wife. 

He supposed he was insane too for thinking she'd have sense not to think that... 

They were both mad. The flawed hero and the broken villain. The more he thought about it the more it made sense to him. 

_She tells me worship in the bedroom..._. 

After their first time together, Missy would jump his bone any and every time an opportunity presented itself. Sometimes they'd make it to the bedroom; other times they just did it where ever they stopped. Occasionally they didn't even make it back to the TARDIS and simply found a supply closet or bathroom, or another empty place. 

The TARDIS disapproved of their shenanigans and every time she got the chance he stop them any way she could. Once when they were in the library the old girl flooded the entire room, luckily no books were damaged. Another time they were in the pool and suddenly all of the water started to drain and before they knew it they were resting on the pool floor. Much to the TARDIS's dismay that unfortunately didn't stop them. The TARDIS just simply sighed and gave up. 

The Doctor and the TARDIS both knew how dangerous Missy was. It was the one thing Missy was good at. She could raise him up so high one moment just to push him down the next. He felt he was always on his toes around her; never truly trusting her. On good days, he'd think she might have changed. That his goodness may have worn off on her, and he would truly be proud. Of course it never lasted. She'd kill some people, or try to conquer a planet just for the 'fun' of it. She'd do something evil every time they argued or she got bored. The Doctor's heart would ache with disappoint every single time he' yell at her. Sometimes he felt more like her father than her lover... 

He wished he could leave her somewhere and never look back, but she was his addiction. His fatal flaw. She was his Aphrodite, and he lived to worship her. He was weak and he knew it; it left a nasty taste in his mouth, but he loved it. It burned his mind, but he would rather be on fire than ice cold. 

Missy hurt him, and the Doctor hurt her; it was their routine and he would never be able to put an end to.  
He wanted to control her and make her do what he wanted. He wanted to make her good, but she was like a sly fox who'd always find a way to escape from him grasp. Missy could never be tamed, so he just spent all of his time cautiously tip-toeing toward her, careful not to scare her off. 

Maybe he did love her. A sick twisted version of love he wanted nothing to do with. 

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies..._. 

Missy's voice was mesmerizing. He could listen to her speak for hours and hours on end. He loved her stories, poems, fables, songs...he was ashamed. 

He was still obsessed with her hair; always touching it. Any time he wasn't sure where to place his hands, he'd bury them in her hair. When he discovered she absolutely loved to have her hair tugged at and yanked he was delighted, and made it his mission to do it as much as possible. 

The Doctor touched her every where he could; she had several off-limit areas. Areas that were still scarred from her previous regenerations torture. Sometimes, after they had talked about their past and Gallifrey she'd let him trace the scars and touch the off-limit areas. It took a great deal of trust he didn't feel he deserved. Occasionally, it would become too much and she would tense and push him away. Then she'd go off to her own bedroom for a little while to recover without him seeing her.

He would feel guilty for hours until she returned and ran her nails up and down his back, to make him know she was feeling better. Or she would just wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest, and be silent. He relished those moments when their breathing and heart beats were the only thing they heard. The Doctor had grown quite used to her touch, which was something that shocked them both. 

_I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife..._

The Doctor talked to her more than he had ever talked to anyone else in his lives. He told her about the time war, his loses, love, and all of the places and things he'd witnessed. She would lay on her stomach next to him, hanging on to every single word he spoke as though it was what kept her alive. 

She was the only one who would listen and truly understand what he was going on about. She understood the searing pain of loss he felt, and it was refreshing. It was strange to think of her as hurting as much as he did. Sometimes he would forget and tell her she didn't understand, then he would receive a stern look that read 'Don't you dare.'  
Sometimes she would get upset and leave the room for a while; she did that a lot. When she returned talking was the very last thing on her mind was talking. 

"Less talk, more sex." She'd whisper into his mouth as she straddles his hips. He always did as he was told without any complaints.  
He didn't regret the marks she left anymore; instead he loved to look at them. He loved being reminded of her. The smell of her perfume and shampoo lingered on his skin and clothes. Nothing in the entirety of the universe smelled better.  
Why did he let himself get attached? He was supposed to hate her, and she was supposed to hate him.  
Was it even really love? He didn't want to love her, but his hearts longed for her. 

She was killing him. 

_Good God, let me give you my life..._. 

"Missy, I care about you a lot." The Doctor whispered one night when they were in bed. He laying on his back, staring at the ceiling like he did most nights. She had her back to him, and growled when he woke her.

"What?!" She spat, not even bothering to look at him.

"I care about you." He repeated and she was silent. "A lot more than I care to admit." He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"Are you telling me you love me?" She asked quietly, an ounce of hope in her voice.

"I I am saying I care about you." He clarified.

"Close enough for me." Missy shrugged and rolled over in his arms to face him. She pecked his lips and snuggled close to him, resting her head under his chin.

He closed his eyes and felt her breath against his skin. He steadied his breathing to hear hers. He could feel her hearts beating in time with his and it felt like heaven. He'd been alone for such a long time that that it was such an exhilarating feeling to be with someone, especially someone who was like him. 

He still hated her most days, and she still hated him almost every day. But wasn't that how love was supposed to work? Love was stupid and hugs are not to be trusted, but it felt nice. He wasn't too bothered by it anymore at that point. He was devoted to her and worshiped her. Insane as she was, he still thought she was amazing and the most interesting being in the universe. She was the Master, or Mistress; whatever, and he was the Doctor. The unlikely lovers destined to run across the universe together for all eternity.


End file.
